


Second Chances

by TomDuggerbug



Category: Shovel Knight
Genre: Blood, Drama & Romance, Edit: chapter seven has a lot of, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eye Trauma, Fainting, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Language, SPOILER AHEAD!!!, also I completely forgot the dark acolyte exists while writing this, also chapter 3 has some, and a whole lot of, and some mild, characters may be added later bc I'm sure I forgot someone, coughing up blood, courtesy of specter knight, gall has a big fucken crush on specter and it makes things awkward, i'm so bad at titles urghhhhhh, so he's not here. sorry, tbh the whole thing's kinda icky, the gang's all here! - Freeform, there's also some kinda gross descriptions of specter dying so uhh watch out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 16:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18056198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomDuggerbug/pseuds/TomDuggerbug
Summary: The Enchantress has been defeated, and without her magic to sustain him, Specter Knight is doomed to die - permanently. Unless, of course, there's another way to restore his humanity. If there is, he has to find it fast, because with each passing moment, his grip on the mortal world grows weaker and weaker.Sequel to Specter of...Love?





	1. In Which Things Turn to Shit

Word spread quickly among the knights of the Order of No Quarter. Or perhaps it was just that King Knight liked attention, and if something even slightly wrong or bad in any way happened to him, he had to let everyone know as soon and as dramatically as possible. That's how everyone knew about the existence of some short, blue knight with a shovel who seemed bent on defeating the Enchantress, and who stormed into Pridemoor Keep and knocked the crown from King Knight's helmet.

Specter Knight was one of the first to know, since the Lich Yard was only a stone's throw from Pridemoor Keep. He just thought the situation was amusing. No one could defeat the Enchantress, she was far too powerful, and that was just a fact. For some lone knight who seemed to appear from nowhere to suddenly think he could defeat the Enchantress with only a shovel on his side? Ridiculous. Pathetic. Laughable, even. Although, Specter had to admit, it would be amusing to see. Especially once he finally laid eyes on this Shovel Knight, trotting gallantly into his lair without so much as a worried glance behind him and a shovel in his hands. This was going to be fun.

And then, a short fight later, Specter Knight found himself lying face-down in the dirt, robe torn to shreds, thinking only about the fact that he was a _lot_ stronger than he looked, and that the Enchantress was going to be _pissed_. Shovel Knight ran off almost immediately after Specter's defeat, proving that he really didn't want anything from him. He was on a beeline to the Tower of Fate, hell-bent on defeating the Enchantress.

Specter sat up and shook the dirt out of his visor, then he stood and dusted himself off, turning and staring in the direction Shovel Knight left. A crazy thought wormed its way into his head, own he was almost to afraid to entertain. Could he actually be the one to defeat the Enchantress? He almost hoped so. He knew that what she and the order did wasn't right and should be stopped, but at the same time, what would become of him if the Enchantress was defeated? There was really no way of knowing, which, Specter decided, stressed him out way too much, so he tried to stop thinking about it. All he could do was sit back and watch what happened. Sure, Shovel Knight could defeat Specter and King, but could he really defeat _all_ the knights of the order? 

Well, a few weeks later, everyone was at the tower having dinner and slowly coming to the realization that yes, he not only could, but _did_. A slow horror began to descend upon the knights as they realized exactly what that meant, and then the aforementioned knight suddenly fell right onto the center of the table from somewhere above. And kicked all of their asses again. (Y'all know how the game goes.)

The thing that surprised all of them, however, was the fact that Shovel Knight saved them all from falling to their deaths without hesitation, before trotting off to face the Enchantress herself. Leaving the eight of them standing there, tired and beat up from battle, with a strange feeling of awe and newfound respect for the blue knight. 

They waited with baited breath as the fight with the Enchantress raged on, unsure of what to do. They shouldn't go help, because they would just be in the way, and really, who would they be helping? No one knew what side to be on anymore. But then the tower started to shake, and loose dirt and stone began falling around them, and whatever confusion that had previously rendered them motionless was forgotten. 

"We have to get out of here!" someone shouted. Everyone started to run; Treasure grabbed King in one arm and Tinker in the other and led the way. All started to evacuate except for Specter, who stood, eyes wide, unable to move, as the tower shook menacingly. It felt so terrifyingly familiar, and he was frozen in place, paralyzed with horror.

_'Donovan! The tower crumbles around us! We must leave at once!'_

Specter blinked, forgetting the danger around him as the familiar voice rung in his ears. _Luan?_

_'Please, Donovan, I'm begging you! Leave the amulet, it's not worth it!'_

Time seemed to slow, the crashing of falling rocks sounding distant and muted. _What...amulet?_

"Donovan!" His wrist was suddenly grabbed, jerking him back to the present. "Snap out of it, we must go!" He was pulled, and he stumbled, but got his feet under him and started to run. It was Propeller who was pulling him along, and Specter realized with a note of affection that he must have turned back once he noticed that the reaper wasn't on his heels. They crashed through one of the stained glass window and floated safely to the ground a ways away, where the other knights had gathered. They all stood and stared as the tower shook ominously, then suddenly began to sink into the earth with a deafening rumble. It didn’t take long before it disappeared beneath the earth, and all went quiet again, while everyone processed what just happened.

"What the fuck? How did it do that?" Mole Knight finally broke the silence. "Does this mean..."

"We're free!" Propeller whooped, throwing his arms in the air. "The Enchantress has been defeated by Shovel Knight, and we are free, bound to her no more!" Most of the knights cheered as well, because truth be told, none of them really liked working for the Enchantress. Plague giggled and danced around, Treasure and King hugged, and some even say Polar knight cracked a smile. Specter was just starting to realize that he wasn’t dead when Propeller suddenly lifted him into the air and twirled him around, laughing. "Mon amour!" he proclaimed, "come live with me on my airship! Let us begin a new life together, conquering the skies!" He set Specter back on his feet, who blinked, too stunned by everything happening to respond for a moment.

"T...together?"

"Yes, together! It will be marvelous! Oh please, Specter? Pleeease?" Specter allowed himself to entertain the thought for a moment; living with Propeller, spending his days with him, going on fabulous adventures and actually getting to let their relationship grow and develop as they grew closer, and he finally smiled. That was a thought he could get used to.

"Yeah...yeah, I'd like that." Propeller cheered and pressed his helmet against Specter's face in a gesture that felt just as intimate and affectionate as a kiss.

~~~

Life felt almost normal after that. The order disbanded and everyone went their separate ways, some finding work, others receiving payback for the greed and evil they displayed while in the order. Specter moved in with Propeller on the airship, much to the other's glee. As they readied the airship for her first takeoff in quite some time, Propeller wouldn't stop grinning, sneaking in little kisses and affectionate touches whenever he could. And Specter was happy too; or at least, he wanted to be, but he couldn't, because there was one very disturbing and concerning thought running rampant through his brain.

Why wasn't he dead?

The Enchantress was gone. Which was in no way a bad thing, in fact, it only had a positive effect on everyone. But after the locket lost its power, it was she that Specter was bound to, she who kept him undead through her magic. And now she was gone. Specter was honestly surprised he didn't vanish along with her, so there must still be enough magic to keep him going, but how long would it last? Surely not forever, Specter knew that. He knew that he was doomed to fade away, to finally have his long-dead body put to rest. He really didn't want Propeller to know that, however, selfish as it was. The other man was so incredibly overjoyed and enthusiastic about finally getting to be together, and Specter didn't want to ruin it with the unfortunate news about his state. If Propeller knew about his limited lifespan, he would start _acting_ like Specter was about to die at any moment, and he didn't want that either. He didn't want Propeller to be worrying about him or treating him any differently than normal. He just wanted to spend his final days or weeks or however long he had left with him, in happiness, and then one day he just might not get up in the morning, and Propeller would find a dead, rotting corpse left in his place. Which was an absolutely horrifying mental image, and Specter certainly didn't want to put Propeller through that kind of trauma. He hoped he'd know before it happened, or he‘d get a warning of some kind, so he could just slip off somewhere and die quietly. Maybe he'd leave a note saying that he was going out somewhere, or leaving, and then he'd just never return. That was awful as well, but it genuinely seemed like Specter's best option. In the meantime, he just straightened himself out and stuck a smile on his face, trying to convince Propeller - and perhaps himself as well - that the world wasn't on the brink of falling apart beneath his feet.

For the first few days, everything was going smoothly. No one could tell that anything was wrong at all. The ship was almost ready to leave and everyone was buzzing with excitement, especially Propeller. For those few days, it almost felt like they were married, the way they fell into their little routine. Every morning they got up and had breakfast together (Specter, of course, not eating, just there to keep Propeller company) and they'd talk about the day's plans or any other topic that surfaced. One morning, Propeller was excitedly talking about a dream he'd had last night where he was a troupple, and asking Specter what he thought it meant. (He didn't think it meant anything, much to Propeller's disappointment.) Then, at the end of the meal, Specter would always help clean up, putting things away and helping to wash the dishes.

That was exactly when it happened. Specter had a plate in one hand and a cup in the other, walking to the kitchen, when he was hit with a very sudden dizziness. He staggered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, trying to shake it off, but it didn't leave. He suddenly felt very, very lightheaded, and the plate and cup slipped from his hands, and the sound of them hitting the floor seemed very distant. He brought up shaky hands to clutch at his head, swaying on the spot. When he opened his eyes, all he could see were black spots swarming his vision, and he lost his balance, falling to the ground. He heard his name being shouted, and then there were hands desperately grabbing at him, touching his face and trying to hold him steady. Everything felt like he was underwater, like he was drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to focus or think about anything for what felt like hours. Finally, after who knows how long of feeling like he was floating, the dizziness slowly went away and the black spots faded. The first thing Specter became aware of was Propeller's green eyes staring worriedly down at him, and then a moment later, his voice finally became clear enough to register.

"Donovan? Donovan, mon amour, can you hear me? What's wrong?" Specter couldn't bring himself to speak, his head hurt and he felt absolutely exhausted. He became aware of their position: on the floor, Specter half-lying across his lap, being cradled gently in his arms. He curled towards his chest, taking slow, deep breaths and closing his eyes.

"'M fine," he managed to mumble. "Just...give me a minute..." Propeller stopped talking, just holding him, stroking his hair and face comfortingly for a moment. After a while, Specter felt better, and he pushed himself up, sitting in front of Propeller, who still kept steadying hands on his arms. "See? I'm fine now. Don't worry," Specter said, smiling, but Propeller looked anything but convinced.

"Donovan, what's wrong? Are you ill? Please tell me," Propeller urged, the worry in his eyes enough to actually make Specter sick from guilt. He still considered not telling him, but then sighed, realizing that it was now or never. He carefully explained his situation as best and as gently as he could, all the while avoiding looking into Propeller's eyes. 

"...I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just...I know it's selfish, but I wanted to spend whatever time I have left with you, and I didn't want you worrying about me or treating me any differently because you knew what's going to happen..." He finally met Propeller's eyes and saw that they were brimming with tears. "Oh no, please don't cry, honey, I'm sorry - "

"Get over here," Propeller choked, pulling Specter into his lap again and hugging him tightly. He buried his face in the crook of his neck and sniffled, and Specter felt a few warm droplets fall onto his skin. His heart ached as he returned the embrace, cuddling close to his lover, soaking up his warmth. "I don't want you to die," Propeller said pathetically, squeezing him tighter. "Stay with me..." Specter felt himself beginning to cry purely from hearing the raw pain and emotion in Propeller's voice, and he closed his eyes, pressing closer.

They stayed right there on the floor for quite some time. Neither could bring themselves to separate from the other, filled with the fear and knowledge that Specter could die at any point without warning, and wanting to be as close as possible, for as long as possible.

~~~

The rest of the day was filled with a tense and nervous sadness that hung heavily in the air, making Specter's skin crawl. He hated that sort of atmosphere. Hopefully, by tomorrow, things would lighten up a bit, because he sure as hell didn't want to spend his last days feeling like he'd done something wrong by telling Propeller. He knew it was the right thing to do, but still.

He was laying in bed with a book, waiting for Propeller to finish getting ready and join him. The whole airship was dark and quiet, and a sweet, warm breeze blew in lazily from the open window, making the curtains flutter. Everything felt lovely. Propeller eventually emerged from the bathroom and crawled into bed next to Specter, and he immediately plastered himself to his side, almost laying on top of him, head tucked under his chin, a leg and an arm draped over his body. Specter closed his book and set it on the nightstand, wrapping his arms around Propeller, who sighed.

"I don't know if I can sleep tonight," he mumbled after a moment of silence. He lifted himself up, just enough to look Specter in the eyes. "What if I wake up and you're gone?"

"That won't happen, I assure you," Specter said, but seeing Propeller's worry made him unsure of his own words. Propeller sighed again.

"Just...if you start to...you know...please wake me, won't you? If anything happens. If you feel anything. Anything at all."

"I will," Specter replied, and Propeller laid back down. Specter stroked his hair, waiting a while before speaking again in an attempt to lighten the mood. "No goodnight kiss?" Propeller immediately pushed himself back up and kissed him firmly, and Specter hummed happily. It lasted longer than normal, and Propeller broke away slowly, staring into Specter's eyes sadly. And then he did lay completely on top of him, chest to chest, face nestled in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Is that even comfortable?" Specter asked, somewhat amused, because he knew that an undead body was definitely not one of the most comfortable things to lay on.

"It is because it's you," Propeller half-mumbled, and Specter smiled, putting an arm around him and stroking his hair with the other hand.

"Fair enough." A comfortable silence passed, and Specter thought Propeller had fallen asleep until he spoke again.

"I don't want you to die." Specter sighed.

"I know, honey. I don't want to either. Let's...try not to dwell on it though, okay?"

"I'm sorry, I just...can't stop thinking about it. What will I do when you're...gone?"

"You'll find someone else, I'm sure." 

"I don't want someone else. I want _you_."

"Well..." Specter sighed again, completely out of comforting things to say. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Propeller sighed for the umpteenth time, and then lapsed into silence, and Specter kept petting his hair.

"Well...good night." Propeller pressed one last kiss to the side of Specter's neck.

"...Bonne nuit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEQUEL TIME!!! :) Off to a rocky start, but there's more chapters to come, so who knows what's gonna happen? Apologies that a lot of this chapter is just a retelling of events from Shovel of Hope, I wanted to give just a little bit of insight into the thoughts and feeling of the knights regarding the Enchantress’ defeat.
> 
> Also, to clarify: I know I've mentioned Specter breathing quite a bit. While it's true that he doesn't have to, he still usually does as a reflex/comfort, and in situations like this chapter, it can help calm him down.


	2. In Which an Unexpected Visitor Arrives

Unfortunately for Specter, after Propeller learned of his fate, he started doing exactly what he hadn't wanted him to do; treating him like he was seconds from dying. It was frustrating, because Propeller was clearly trying not to, but the sadness in his eyes, gentler tone of voice used and lingering touches on his body didn't go unnoticed. He tried to keep a smile on his face and a spring in his step, for the sake of not only Specter, but his crewmen as well, but it was difficult. The crew began noticing the ever so subtle changes in his demeanor and worried for their captain, as they had all been kept in the dark about the whole situation. Specter really felt fine after that first incident, and he didn't get any more dizzy spells, but Propeller still kept an eye on him at almost all times, obviously ready to catch him if he fell again. Specter kind of hated it, even though part of him was touched. He mostly hated it. He didn't like it when people had to worry about him.

A few days passed with that strange sort of tension lurking onboard. Propeller was busy checking over a list of provisions and supplies when he was approached by one of his crewmen.

"Um, captain, sir?" He asked, and Propeller turned and looked at him.

"Yes?"

"Uh...Shovel Knight's here, and he wants to speak with you." Propeller frowned under his helmet.

"What?"

"Shovel Knight. He's onboard, sir."

"Why on earth is _he_ here? What does he want?"

"Um, I'm not sure, I just ran to tell you as soon as I saw, sir!" Propeller groaned; this was the last thing he needed. He had a ship to ready and a dying boyfriend to take care of, now Shovel Knight wanted something?

"Very well, where is he?" He sighed, exasperated.

"Right this way, sir." The crewman led him through the halls of the airship until they arrived at quite the commotion. There stood Shovel Knight, without his trusted blade (or rather, spade), looking quite bewildered and surrounded with guards pointing their weapons at him. He seemed to brighten when he saw Propeller.

"Ah, Propeller Knight, well met! Forgive me for intruding upon your airship! I assure you I have no ill intentions."

"What can I help you with?" Propeller asked, too stressed to bother with being as formal and eloquent as Shovel Knight was being.

"Is Specter Knight here? I am searching for him, and was told that he could be found here. Is this true? And may I speak to him, if so?" Propeller frowned.

"Why do you wish to speak with him?"

"I believe I have something that rightfully belongs to him, and have come to return it." Propeller hesitated, unsure of whether of not he could trust him. But, he reasoned, the other knight was weaponless, and seemed quite genuine. In his limited exposure to the other, he had discovered that Shovel Knight was very honest, kind and chivalrous, so there shouldn't be any danger.

"...Very well. Wait here and I'll bring him." He turned, muttering a quick "keep an eye on him" to the crewman who brought him there (it never hurt to be safe), and going to find Specter. It didn't take long, because Propeller had instructed him to not drain himself by doing any demanding physical tasks, and he was relieved to find Specter curled up in a chair with a book. He was just as confused as Propeller was about what Shovel Knight wanted, but agreed to meet with him nonetheless, so he put his visor down and followed Propeller back over to where he was, still surrounded by guards, who Propeller dismissed.

"What is it?" Specter asked as soon as he was within talking distance.

"Specter Knight, well met! I'll cut to the chase; I have something I believe to be yours." He rummaged around in his armor for a while before holding out, to Specter's shock and Propeller's horror, a very familiar locket. "Does this belong to you?"

"How do you have that?!" Propeller squawked, and Specter realized in that moment that he never told Propeller about how it vanished. Oops.

"I bought it from a merchant named Chester, who says that he received it in a trade with Plague Knight! I had no idea of it's origins at the time, but heard that it may be yours." Specter would have laughed, because of _course_ it was Plague who took it, but he was too stunned to speak for a few moments. He had been an absolute wreck when he found his precious locket gone, he had spent hours mourning it, feeling like a failure for letting it get stolen, and feeling like there was nothing left to really ground him anymore, like his last connection to Luan had been severed. It was so bad that he barely even remembered the time he spent guarding the Lich Yard; he had felt lost and numb, unable to feel anything after his last precious tie to the mortal world was taken away. And then there it was, being held out generously and kindly by one who was supposed to be his enemy. After a moment, he realized he hadn't said anything yet, and that this was probably getting a little awkward, so he mustered up his voice and finally answered.

"I...yes...th-thank you." He held out a hand slowly, still unbelieving. "It's...very important to me." Shovel Knight wasted no time in placing the locket in Specter's outstretched hand.

"How fortunate that I am able to return it to it's rightful owner!" Specter didn't reply, he just stared at the locket, lost in thought. He was so relieved and grateful that he was actually starting to feel lightheaded. And then the black spots in his vision returned, and he realized, with a sinking feeling, that it wasn't gratitude he was feeling.

"Ugh..." He staggered as the same dizziness from a few days ago suddenly overtook him once again, hand closing around the locket tightly. He fell to his knees, gasping, and he distantly heard his name being shouted as he went limp.

For a while he floated, not sure if he was conscious or not, unable to perceive anything around him and feeling colder than he ever had before. He didn't know how long he was like that, but when he finally resurfaced, slowly and sluggishly, all he could hear was Propeller shouting.

"What have you _done?!_ " The unfiltered anger in his voice was startling.

"I - I swear, I have done nothing! I simply tried to return the locket, I don't know what this is about!" Shovel Knight's voice protested, and Specter was hit with embarrassment. Why did Shovel Knight just _have_ to witness him in one moment of weakness? How humiliating.

"You - you -!!" Propeller cut himself off when Specter started to sit up, pushing past the exhaustion and disorientation that still clouded his mind. "Mon amour! Are you alright?" Specter didn't answer, focusing on getting back on his feet. Propeller had obviously caught him again before he could fully hit the ground, and he had to pry himself out of his arms, hand still tightly clutching the locket. He stood slowly, wobbling a bit, and Propeller stood with him, keeping steadying hands on his arms. Specter took a few breaths before he felt stable enough to speak.

"I...apologize...for that. I'm fine. Thank you for...the locket. Yes..." For some reason, he felt out of breath, despite how he didn't even need oxygen to survive. Shovel Knight looked concerned...somehow.

"Are you quite alright, Specter Knight? Did I come at a bad time?"

"No, I can assure you I am fine." He felt better the longer he stood, and Propeller released him, instead opting to just hold his hand, squeezing lightly.

"Are...are you sure? Is there anything I can do to help?" Specter sighed. Well, might as well tell him, right? It's not like he'd be around long enough to see any consequences, as depressing of a thought as that was.

"...No. The Enchantress has been defeated, and I'm...well, without her to sustain me, I'm going to die, to put it simply." He felt Propeller squeeze his hand a little harder. "So thank you for returning my locket before I do. I can rest easy knowing it's safe."

"Oh...I'm very sorry." Shovel Knight glanced at their tightly clasped hands, and Specter wanted to pull away, but Propeller held him tightly. "...I never abandon a fellow knight in need of help! There must be something I can do."

"That's very kind, but there is nothing - "

"Oh! I know!" Shovel Knight gave a little jump of excitement. "It was the Enchantress who kept you alive, you say? And my good friend Shield Knight _was_ the Enchantress! We should ask her for help, I'm sure she would know what to do, considering it was her who helped you before!" Specter frowned at the mention of Shield Knight's name, still harboring a bit of a grudge over her. He was about to turn him down when Propeller spoke, softly.

"It is worth a try, mon amour."

"But - " Specter turned to Propeller, ignoring Shovel Knight in hopes of having a private conversation. "I don't want _her_ help. She's the one who...!" He trailed off, glancing quickly at Shovel Knight.

"We have to try. Anything is worth a try." Propeller squeezed his hand affirmingly. "Anything to keep you here with me." And Specter agreed, so after one final moment of internal debate, he sighed begrudgingly.

"Fine." He said it loud enough that Shovel knight could hear, and the blue knight gave another little hop.

"Most excellent! I can bring you to her, so come with me whenever you are ready! Shall I meet you just outside?" This time, it was Propeller who answered him.

"Yes, we'll only be a moment. Thank you." Shovel Knight trotted off, and Specter sighed loudly. Propeller turned to him. "What is the matter, amour?"

"Why do we have to get help from _him_? And _Shield Knight_?"

"Anything is worth a try! What if she has the solution?"

"Yeah, but I don't trust her! She's the one who stopped Luan and I from taking the amulet, she's the one who caused everything! His death, my undeath, everything!" Propeller clicked his tongue.

"Forgive me, mon cher, but I don't believe she is _entirely_ to blame."

"Well...maybe...! But still, I don't want her help!" Propeller sighed and pulled Specter in for a hug.

"Come now, Specter, it is worth a try. Please, won't you come talk to her? For me? For _us_?" Specter hesitated; he really didn't like how easy it was for Propeller to convince him of anything.

"...Ugh. Fine." Propeller smiled.

"Thank you." He pulled away slightly and gazed at Specter with determination. "Now let's go get your humanity back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shovel knight? Being in a Shovel Knight fic? It's more likely than you think.


	3. In Which Plans are Made

Specter had never really considered the fact that Shovel Knight had to have come from somewhere. He seemed more like the kind of mythical hero who would show up when the world needed him most, defeat whatever evil threatened the land, and then vanish into the mist, never to be seen again. But then, as Specter stood in the warm sun and stared at a small, quaint little cottage surrounded with rolling green hills and a small field of crops, he realized that Shovel Knight was, well...real. Human. Physical. It was a strange realization.

"Oh, what a cute little house!" Propeller, who was walking next to Specter, commented.

"It is not much, but please, make yourselves at home," Shovel Knight said, ever chivalrous, leading the way along a dirt path to the front door. He opened it and stepped inside.

The inside was also small, but cozy. There was a little kitchen and a round table with chairs, an empty fireplace and a couch in front of it, and a door off to the side that probably led to a bedroom. Shield Knight was seated at the table, inspecting a map, and she brightened as she saw Shovel Knight enter.

"Oh good, you're back!" She said cheerily. "Did you find..." and then she trailed off as she noticed Specter Knight himself, nervously floating in the doorway, unsure of whether or not it was okay to enter. They locked eyes through Specter's visor, and everyone felt the sudden rise in tension. Shield Knight glared daggers, and Shovel Knight cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Er, please, come in, you two. Can I get you anything?"

"Why is _he_ here?" Shield Knight asked, pointing at Specter. Then Propeller walked in (he had left the propeller part of his helmet behind so he could actually fit through the door), and she pointed at him. "And why is he here?!"

"Erm, we have a...situation on our hands," Shovel Knight began, and Specter just felt embarrassed. This was an awful idea.

Ten minutes later, they were all seated at the table, trying to explain to Shield Knight what was going on. It was mostly Propeller who spoke, but the occasional kick under the table would spur Specter into adding or elaborating on something. Every so often, Shovel Knight would ask something. Shield Knight, however, stayed quiet, still glaring at Specter, which made him squirm. He got the feeling he wasn't going to be easily forgiven for the whole amulet situation, even though he wanted to try and put the whole situation behind them. He wasn't sure if he completely forgave her either, but he was honestly tired of fighting. Plus, Propeller had told him to behave, and he really didn't want to disappoint him.

"...So you see, we thought that you, as the Enchantress, would have some idea of how to help," Shovel Knight finally concluded.

"Yeah, no offence, but I'm not too sure I _want_ to help him," she said, still glaring at Specter, who sighed.

"Listen, Shield Knight, I'm sorry about what happened - "

"'Sorry' isn't gonna cut it!" Shield Knight snapped. "This whole situation is your fault! Everything is your fault! If you had just let me destroy the amulet, everything would have been fine!"

" _My_ fault?!" Specter hissed, quickly becoming agitated. "If you just let me take the amulet, nothing would have happened, but instead you just had to stop me and let it possess you. I think one of us is more to blame than the other." Really, he knew that he was at least partially to blame for everything, but no way was he backing down now.

"Oh, you think I _wanted_ to become the Enchantress? That's rich! Why didn't you just let me kill you back in that tower? Instead, you helped cause the destruction of this land! Do you know how many innocent people lost their lives because of you?"

"You're the one who revived me!" His voice rose as he spoke. "You didn't give me a choice! You sent me to gather your order! Do you honestly think I condemned myself to this horrid fate of my own free will? Are you _thick?!_ "

"Mon amour, please calm down," Propeller said gently, putting a hand on Specter's arm, but he jerked it away.

"Shut up! I _am_ calm!" He snapped in a tone of voice that suggested otherwise. He turned back to Shield Knight, pointing an accusing finger. "You think I haven't suffered? Fucking look at me! I'm dead! I'm _dying!_ Now can you fucking help reverse this shit you've put upon me, or are you too fucking stupid to even understand that?!"

"Donovan, please, let's be civil -"

"Shut -!" Specter tried to snap again, but was interrupted by an abrupt cough. He started coughing, unable to stop, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth. His other arm wrapped around his stomach, which was hit with a sudden, sharp pain, and he coughed harder. His eyes widened as he gagged, and he tugged his mask down quickly before retching against the palm of his hand. He felt something warm and wet and sticky against his hand, and he shakily pulled it away, revealing a very dark, almost purple splatter of blood. Propeller shrieked as he saw it, and Shield Knight paled. "Fuck-" he coughed again, more blood spurting from his mouth and dripping down his chin. His whole body shuddered, and he swayed slightly in his seat, feeling dizzy. Propeller reached out and held him in place tightly, rubbing his shoulder. Specter coughed a few more times, each one sending sharp jabs of pain through his ribs and abdomen, and he covered his mouth again, spitting up even more blood that leaked through his fingers.

"Oh God," Propeller moaned in horror.

"Has...has that happened before?" Shield Knight asked, nervous. Specter tried to respond, but his words were too choked and garbled to be understood.

"Don't speak. Just...just stop," Propeller urged him gently, and Specter nodded, trying to quell the urge to keep coughing. He squeezed his eyes shut and took careful, measured breaths, and slowly, the shaky, dizzy feeling subsided. He swallowed down the sticky feeling of blood in his throat, trying not to gag and fighting back a grimace.

"I'm fine," he breathed hoarsely after a while, shoulders slumping. "I'm...I'm fine. Sorry about...this."

"No, you're not fine," Propeller said softly, voice shaking.

"I am now. Don't worry," Specter said, trying to hide how scared he was as well. He tried not to think too much about where the blood had come from and exactly what it meant. Were his insides already starting to rot? He fought back a shudder at the thought. Shovel Knight, who hadn't said anything throughout the whole ordeal, stood and went to the kitchen, and he returned a moment later with a damp cloth, which he handed to Specter. "Ah...thank you." He wiped the blood from his hand and mouth, as well as a few drops that had landed on the table, trying to keep his mind blank as he did. Shovel Knight took a breath.

"Let's not argue any longer," he said firmly. "Specter needs help. He's dying, and we don't know how much longer he has. We must set our grudges aside and assist him however we can!" Shield Knight sighed.

"You're right." She looked at Specter. "I'm sorry. I lost my temper." She gave a thin smile. "Let's...put this behind us, and...I'll help you. Okay? Truce?" She held out her hand to shake, and Specter gave a small smile, and was about to give her his, until he realized that he'd be using his bloodied hand.

"Er..." he held out his left hand instead, the clean one. "Yeah. I'm sorry too. Truce." Shield Knight realized why and smiled sheepishly, switching hands before giving Specter's a firm shake.

"Excellent!" Shovel Knight clapped his hands together. "Now, let's make a plan. If Shield Knight has no immediate ideas, then I suggest we return to the tower and search there. If that's where Specter was made undead in the first place, then there should be clues there as to how we can revive him."

"Good idea, only the tower's underground now," Shield Knight said.

"Mole Knight!" Shovel Knight offered brightly. "He is most excellent at excavating underground. If anyone can lead us to the tower, it is him." He directed his attention back to Propeller and Specter. "Would either of you know where he could be found?"

"I know he leads an excavation team now, so he could be anywhere, really. But I know where he takes his breaks in the Lost City. We should check there first," Specter replied, voice just a little raspier than usual.

"Great! We'll head there first thing tomorrow morning. How's that sound?" Shield Knight declared.

"Excellent!" Shovel Knight said.

"Mon amour," Propeller murmured to Specter. "Are you sure you're alright? Can you make the journey?"

"Of course, I'm fine. Don't worry," he responded, and Propeller sighed.

"...Alright." He patted his arm a few times. "As long as you're sure." Then he turned to the other two. "It is decided, then. We leave tomorrow morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, Specter is gross, and he contradicts himself a lot because I routinely forget what's already been said and also suck at writing arguments. Oops.
> 
> (Might come back and fix this chapter up a bit later)
> 
> Edit 07/31/2019: as predicted, I came back and fixed up Spec and Shield's argument! Less contradiction and more swearing - exactly what it needed.


	4. In Which Familiar Faces Appear

The four of them set out the next day at the crack of dawn. Fortunately for them, Mole Knight wasn't far; they managed to catch him on break, and, after a brief explanation, he agreed to help them reach the tower.

"It won't be easy. I'm not sure how far underground that thing went or how you're planning on getting inside. It might be filled with soil, or maybe it was crushed by the pressure, who knows. All I know is that you're in for a lot of work."

"We know, and we're ready," said Shield Knight, ever the brave spokesperson of the group. Mole nodded.

"Alrighty then. Let's go."

Thus, the party continued on their journey to the spot where the tower used to be. The ground had sealed up above where it had been, but there was still a very obvious crater right where it was, and the earth was blackened and scorched. Mole began to dig, and Shovel Knight helped, and it didn't take long before they had a tunnel going deep underground. They tried to dig at an angle, so it would be easier to actually descend through the tunnel, which made things a bit tricky, but they managed, somehow. Which left the three remaining knights sitting on the grass, feeling useless. Specter had offered his help, because, as he discovered while on his quest to recruit knights, scythes worked not bad as digging tools, but everyone thought it would be best if he just rested. Hard work might cause him to die faster, which Specter thought was a pretty good assumption, but it still didn't stop him from feeling useless. Finally, after what felt like a few hours of sitting and doing nothing (a little awkwardly, because there was still a bit of tension between Specter and Shield Knight), Shovel Knight emerged from the tunnel, covered in dirt and panting.

"We hit a wall!" He announced, and the other three leapt up and followed him underground. He led the way, with Shield Knight following behind, and Specter floated behind her. Propeller was at the back of the group, and partway down, Specter looked back to find him a few paces further from the rest of them, shuffling almost nervously.

"What's the matter?" Specter asked. Propeller glanced around anxiously.

"I don't like this," he moaned miserably. "I don't like this at all."

"Why? Are you claustrophobic or something?"

"...Perhaps a little," Propeller admitted. "I can't stand feeling trapped like this." Specter realized that this was his chance to be a little romantic, so he straightened up and held out his hand.

"It's alright. Come on," he urged, and Propeller took the offered hand and squeezed.

"Merci." They kept walking, hands clasped, and soon caught up to the others. The bricks of the tower were indeed visible, and the tunnel turned sharply to follow them.

"We're trying to find a window, or some way in," Shovel Knight explained, "so it may still be a while until we can get inside."

They followed the tunnel that Mole dug for them as it snaked along the wall, and finally, they found an opening. A smashed in window led inside, and they all climbed in. the room they were in seemed spacious, but it was too dark to tell. Fortunately, Mole's fiery head worked well as a light source, and as he led the way deeper in, the walls around them were illuminated. The room was empty and cold, and in the middle was a pile of rocks and rubble; Specter stiffened and gasped when he saw them, unconsciously squeezing Propeller's hand.

"What is it?" Propeller asked, a touch of nervousness to his voice.

"This is...this is where I died," he replied softly, staring at the debris.

"...Oh." Specter was motionless for a few moments, and Propeller tenderly put an arm around him to comfort him. The touch seemed to jolt Specter back to reality, and he shook himself slightly.

"Ah...sorry. Got distracted." Specter finally tore his gaze away and started forwards, catching up with the rest of the group.

They made their way to the library rather slowly, as some hallways were blocked off by heaps of dirt that had spilled in through the windows. However, many of the torches along the walls were still somehow illuminated. It gave the whole place an ominous atmosphere, and the four mortals of the group were obviously a little creeped out by the whole thing. Specter, on the other hand, had grown rather used to creepy and paranormal activities, so he didn't really think much of it.

They finally arrived to find the library rather warm and well-lit, with a fire crackling in the fireplace. It barely seemed any different from when Specter used to frequent it back in his knight-collecting days, only the memmec that used to snooze in front of the fire was gone. Specter hoped it was okay.

"Oh, this is nice!" Shield Knight commented out loud, leading the way into the room before turning to the rest of the party with a smile. "This can be like our headquarters. There's gotta be some info here, right? Look at all these books!"

"Right!" Shovel Knight agreed with practically everything she said.

"Great! So, let's make a plan." She started talking, presumably making some sort of plan, but Specter wasn't really listening. He stood a little ways from the others, still looking around the library. He couldn't quite describe the emotion he was feeling, being back in the tower. It was almost nostalgic, but it was also painful in a way he didn't understand. Most of the books had fallen from the shelves and lay scattered in disarray across the floor, and a few bricks had fallen out of the walls and ceiling. He spotted the record player that he and Propeller had dug up so long ago, laying on the floor, covered in dust and cobwebs. The table it had sat on was on its side and the records that had been in such a neat, organized stack were everywhere. He couldn't help but remember the night he and Propeller had danced together right there, in this very room, and his heart gave a bittersweet squeeze. He hoped that, before he died, they could set the turntable up and dance again, even though there probably wouldn't be time, and they'd have to be alone, and the turntable was probably broken now, anyways...

"Specty?" His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice, and he blinked. It was a girl's voice, but it wasn't Shield Knight who spoke. Specter turned towards the door and saw a very familiar green face peeking in and staring at him. He blinked in shock.

"Missy!" At the sound of her name, she grinned.

"Oh, Specty, it is you! You came back!" She rushed into the room, pausing after she was a few paces in to shout "hey guys, Specty's back!" down the hall where she came. Then she launched herself at Specter and hugged him tightly, much to his surprise.

"Oh, who's this?" Shield Knight asked, approaching the two of them, and Specter started to come up with an answer, but was interrupted.

"Why, Specter Knight! How good to see you again!" It was Red who spoke, strolling into the room with Scarlet on his arm. Gall walked in behind them and gave a little wave.

"You're...you're all still here!" Specter commented, surprised. He genuinely never thought he'd see any of the tower's residents again, and it was relieving to see that they were all okay.

"Well, of course. We didn't really have anywhere else to go," Gall said. Missy at last released Specter from her bone-crushing hug and finally seemed to notice everyone standing behind him.

"Oh, you've brought friends! That girl looks like the Enchantress! And isn't that Propeller Knight? Wow!" She grinned up at him. "So what brings all of you here, Specty? Did you come back just to say hi to little ol' me? You shouldn't have!" Specter glanced away awkwardly.

"Er...not exactly." He looked to the other knights, way too awkward to think of anything to say as an answer and really not wanting to explain the actual reason. Fortunately, Shield Knight seemed to sense this, because she looked at Missy and smiled sweetly.

"We could actually use your help, if you're interested. See, we need to find the power to restore life, and we're on a tight schedule. Do any of you know how we could do that?" Missy suddenly looked very skeptical.

"That's not gonna be easy. Why do you need it? That's not the kind of power you can wield without a good reason."

"It's...for me," Specter cut in. "I...no longer have the Enchantress' power to sustain me, and I need to restore my humanity in order to continue living." He really hated having to explain himself.

"Oh! Well in that case, of course I'll help! Anything to help Specty!" She turned to the other undeads. "And you guys can help too, right?"

"Yeah!" Gall immediately agreed.

"Of course! I owe Specter Knight a great deal for what he has done for me, it is the least I can do to aid him in return," Red added, and Scarlet agreed enthusiastically.

Specter was touched. There he was, not really thinking much of these people, and there they were immediately offering their help. It was almost like they were friends, and that realization alone was enough to almost make Specter cry. God, he really was too sentimental. "You guys..."

"Great!" Yet again, it was Shield Knight who saved him the embarrassment. "Okay then, no time to lose. Let's split up and get going! Shovel Knight, you should dig around the tower and search for anything that might be a clue."

"Got it!" He turned to Mole. "Would you be willing to assist me in digging? I'm sure you have work to return to, but if you could spare even more of your time, it would be appreciated."

Mole chuckled a little. "Sure, why the hell not? Work has been boring lately anyways, and I could use a break."

"And we can help, too! If you find a book or something written in an old language, bring it to one of us and we could probably translate it!" Missy offered enthusiastically.

"Yes! And I know this tower inside out. I would be happy to assist in searching," Red said.

"And I'll help however I can!" Scarlet added.

"Perfect! I'll start searching here, and Specter can help me, right?" Shield Knight said, looking at him with a grin.

"Fine."

"What can I do? Put me to work!" Propeller asked, and for a moment, no one knew how to respond.

"You can sit somewhere and look pretty," Mole answered.

"Absolutely not! There must be something I can do, I want to help!"

"Face it, Propeller, you're useless underground." Propeller only huffed and stomped his foot at Mole's comment.

"Hey, I've got it!" Shield Knight snapped her fingers. "You should go and see if you can recruit anyone else to help! You can get around Pridemoor faster than all of us. Maybe Plague Knight or Treasure Knight or someone knows something!"

"Ooh, and Black Knight! He may know something useful!" Shovel Knight added.

"Excellent! I'll go ask them all, and I'll be back before you even know I'm gone!" And with that, Propeller took off at a sprint.

"Don't get lost!" Specter shouted after him, but was probably too late, because Propeller had vanished.

"Alright, let's go!" Everyone split up and got to work, and just like that, the great race to find the power to regain humanity was underway.

~~~

"Okay!" Shield Knight clapped her hands together. She and Specter had set one of the tables back on its legs and set a candle on it, with the intention of using it as a work space. "Let's get to work. First, let's find out what we know." She turned to Specter, who was sitting at the table. "When The Enchantress - er, when I offered for restore your humanity, how did I do it? My memories of my time as The Enchantress are foggy."

"You took my locket and bound me by it," Specter explained terribly. He couldn't remember that moment very well either, being delirious and seconds from death when it happened, but he at least knew that much.

"Your locket?"

"Yes." Specter pulled the trinket from the folds of his cowl and showed her.

"Is it magical?"

"I didn't think so. I believe it was you who enchanted it."

"Here, let me see." Shield Knight reached out to take it, and Specter jerked it towards himself protectively, glaring warily at Shield Knight. There was a beat of silence before she smiled gently. "I won't steal it or drop it or anything, I just want to see." Specter still didn't move. "I promise I'll give it back." Finally, he sighed, holding it out slowly, still hesitant.

"...Alright, fine. But you will return it as soon as you're finished." 

"Thank you." Shield Knight took it from him gently and began inspecting it, turning it over slowly. "Hmm...no, you're right, it's just a regular locket." She sighed. "So that means that it was my power, or rather, the amulet's power, that had to be bound to something in order for it to work. But does it have to be this locket...?" She trailed off, deep in thought, and she glanced at Specter, noticing that he hadn't taken his eyes off of his precious locket. Shield Knight took a breath. "Hey, listen...I know things are kinda awkward right now, but...no hard feelings, right? No one deserves to suffer, I understand that, and I want to try and help you. Do you trust me? Can you...forgive me?" Specter sighed.

"...I suppose. I mean, I don't really want to spend my final days pointlessly arguing with you." Well, that wasn't the answer Shield Knight had been hoping for, but she'd take it.

"Final days? Psh, no way. We'll have your humanity back in a snap. Once I set my mind to something, there's no stopping me!"

"How are you so optimistic? It's hopeless, don't fool yourself. There's no way we can just stumble upon the power to restore life in only a few days."

"Lighten up! It never hurts to be optimistic. Besides, you have to have a little bit of hope, or else why would you have helped us get all the way here? You know it's not hopeless, you're just saying that!"

"Oh, stuff a sock in it. I'm only here because Ali - er, Propeller didn't want me to just lay down and die."

"Aw, what a good boyfriend you are, doing everything he says!"

"Shut up." Shield Knight laughed and cuffed him lightly on the shoulder.

"Loosen up! Now get your bones out of that chair, let's get going. We have a lot of work to do!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for how long it took to post this chapter! I can assure you I'm not abandoning the story or anything like that, I was just hit with a lot of stuff at once that kept me from writing. This chapter was also, for some reason, really hard to write.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure why, but for some reason it's totally fine to shorten all of the knight's names to just the first word (Specter, Propeller, Mole, etc.) but you absolutely _can't_ with Shovel Knight and Shield Knight. It just feels so wrong to only call them Shovel and Shield! So I have to write out their full names every time.


	5. In Which Everyone Starts Hitting Each Other

The next few days were, in Specter's opinion, really boring. Everyone was working hard, going through books, translating old scripts, searching everywhere for any sort of clue or indication as to how to create, summon, or otherwise conjure the amulet's power (safely, of course). Specter wanted to help; after all, this was all for him, but no one would let him. He was instructed to sit and rest and do nothing while everyone around him searched, and he felt useless. There was also the very worrying fact that the tips of his fingers were turning black, and, as the days passed, the blackness spread up his arms until it reached his elbows, and it left in its wake dry, leathery, withered skin, as if his flesh had rotted away and he only had a thin later of skin left that clung wetly to his bones. They constantly throbbed with a dull ache which was sometimes difficult to ignore, so he looked for ways to distract himself from it, really not wanting to dwell on the fact that his body had already started to die. The good news was that progress was being made; in an old, half-rotted tome, sketches of the amulet had been found, along with various runes and symbols. The page had to be translated from its old script, which was a challenge even for Missy and friends. The bits and pieces that could be translated, however, were written in riddle and were almost impossible to understand. It was a difficult code to crack, even with everyone's best efforts, but at least it was progress.

Fortunately, throughout all this, Specter had Gall to keep him company and help take his mind off things. He would usually help Missy with translating and deciphering, but whatever time he had off he spent with Specter, which was appreciated. It was nice to have someone to talk to, much as Specter hated to admit it, and he wasn't as obsessive and almost intrusive as Shield Knight was about his health. She was keeping a very, _very_ close eye on Specter, constantly checking on him and asking him if he felt alright, which got annoying incredibly quickly. Specter finally had enough and, when Shield Knight's back was turned, he and Gall snuck off.

"Where are we going?" Gall asked after they had been walking for a while.

"There's something I want to check," Specter explained. "You don't have to come along."

"Yes I do, because it's my job to make sure you don't die."

"And what exactly are you doing to prevent that?"

"Erm...I can catch you if you fall?" Specter just sighed.

It took them a while to find what Specter was looking for, and they had to do a bit of digging to reach it, but they finally arrived at a round room. Most of the windows had broken, with dirt and rocks flooding in, and in the center was the old harpsichord, looking dusty and forgotten. Specter took a moment to sweep piles of dirt and pebbles off of the keys and out of the inside of the instrument, but there was still a lot that was impossible to reach and clean out.

"Huh. I never knew there was a piano here," Gall commented, and Specter sighed again.

"It's a harpsichord."

"What's the difference?"

"These are older, have a different sound, and the key colours are inverted. See?" He tapped a few keys experimentally; they felt crusty, probably from the dirt between them, and the sound wasn't as bright as it used to be. Specter mentally apologized to the instrument, because he had really liked it, and seeing it in such a state was enough to make him grieve. He dusted off the bench, sat down, and began to play; nothing in particular, just fiddling around, seeing what he remembered, and assuring himself that the actual damage to the instrument was minimal. It actually hurt his fingers a little, the pain blossoming more when he put pressure on his fingertips, but Specter had always had terrible judgement, so he played through the pain.

"Oh, you play!" Gall commented.

"Yes, what does it look like?"

"How did you learn? And for how long?"

"A few years. Taught myself." Specter was starting to get just the tiniest bit annoyed; Propeller hadn't asked so many questions (or perhaps he did, but was somehow much less annoying about it.) Fortunately, Gall was quiet after that, allowing Specter some peace and enough time to discover that the harpsichord sounded better the longer he played. Maybe some of the dirt was being worked out, or perhaps it was just suffering from neglect. Either way, Specter was relieved.

"...So," Gall began after a while. "That guy you brought with you. He's Propeller Knight, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Right. I remember him." A pause. "So, uh, how come he's here?"

"He's..." Specter hesitated, because he had never had to announce their relationship before now. It felt awkward to him, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked the way Gall had asked. But, the air needed to be cleared, so he took a breath. "He's...my boyfriend. We're dating."

Silence.

"Oh," was all Gall could say. "I see." And then, "congratulations."

"Yeah...thanks." Specter continued to play, trying to rid the room of the horribly uncomfortable tension that had settled over both of them.

"Why him?" Gall suddenly asked. "He hardly seems like your type at all. He's not forcing you or anything, is he?"

"No, not at all. I love him quite a bit." Specter shrugged. "I...didn't really think he was my type at first too, but...you know, things happen."

More silence, only broken by Specter continuing to fiddle at the keys.

"So - "

"We should head back," Specter said abruptly, and he stood up, suddenly deciding that he couldn't stand this atmosphere any longer. "Shield Knight's probably noticed we're gone by now, and she'll be worried."

"Oh, uh...yeah. Good idea." In truth, Specter had wanted to play longer, but decided that he'd just have to go back later, when Gall wasn't with him. Plus, the ache in his hands and fingers was worsening, so maybe it was for the best that he stopped when he did.

They returned to the library to find a furiously pacing Shield Knight, who stormed towards the duo as soon as she spotted them.

"Where were you?!" She snapped, and Gall squeaked, cowering behind Specter.

"Not far. I was just checking on something."

"You can't just wander off like that! I've got enough to worry about without you disappearing. What if you _died?"_

"It wouldn't make a difference. I had Gall with me, he would have come and told you." Shield Knight huffed and gave Specter a good thwack on the head. "Hey! What was that for?"

"You idiot! Think of the rest of us! Don't you think Propeller would want to be with you if you died?"

"Still doesn't make a difference, he's gone right now."

"I'm back!" Propeller's voice suddenly shouted from somewhere. "And I'm not alone!" Shield Knight scowled.

"We'll continue this discussion later," she hissed, before stepping away and following the sound of Propeller's voice. Specter and Gall followed. They met with Propeller in the next room, as he strode in proudly. Behind him was Treasure Knight, and further behind was King Knight, who really looked like he'd rather be somewhere else. Plague Knight also bounced in, next to a woman with green skin who Specter didn't recognize.

"I brought some knights with me!" Propeller announced the obvious. "I also asked Black Knight, but he was not willing to come along." That sent a stab through Specter's heart, because he _knew_ Black Knight - they grew up together in the same orphanage. Perhaps Propeller hadn't used his real name when asking him, because then Black Knight wouldn't have known who he was talking about. That must have been it, because Specter liked to think that Black Knight would have wanted to help had he known.

"Great!" Shield Knight said. "We could really use your help."

Treasure sauntered closer, staring down at Shield Knight intimidatingly. "You should know I don't work for free," he said, "so I hope you've got the means to pay up."

"Oh come now," Shield Knight urged. "Can't you find it in you to help, out of the goodness of your own heart?" She flashed him her best, charming smile. While she worked on convincing him, Plague suddenly bounced up to Specter and held a vial filled with a mysterious fluorescent green liquid up to his face.

"Hee! ...Drink this!" Specter eyed him suspiciously.

"Why?"

"Just do it! It'll help, I promise, hee hee!" Specter hesitated for a moment, but then realized that he didn't really have much to lose. He grabbed the vial, pulled the cork out, tugged his mask down, and chugged. It tasted _terrible_ , and he had to fight every urge in his body to not immediately spit it out, but he managed to force it down with a shiver and a grimace. Plague giggled. "Hee! It tastes so awful, it keeps you in the mortal world longer!"

"Plaguey!" The girl Specter didn't recognize approached and gave Plague a light smack, then she turned to Specter. "Sorry, that's not true. That potion was our attempt at creating the power of a wisp, which would prolong your undeath, if it works. If not, then don't worry, there shouldn't be any side effects." She gave a quick smile. "I'm Mona, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Ah, thank you. I'm Specter Knight."

"I know." Specter blinked.

"Oh." Before he could feel awkward, King finally approached, looking around himself nervously.

"Ooh, this place is looking so much more _drab_ than the last time I was here. Why must such a _glorious_ ruler such as myself dirty my _exquisite_ armor in such an awfully dirty and desolate place?" he groaned miserably.

"If you cooperate and agree to help, you'll be out of here in no time," Shield Knight assured him. King looked at Specter.

"And _you're_ the one who I'm supposed to be helping? What if I don't want to help such a miserable _wretch?"_

"Why would you come all this way and then decide you didn't want to help?" Specter quipped before Shield Knight could come up with something sweet and persuasive to say. King puffed out his chest defensively.

"Don't question my motives, scum! Perhaps I was considering aiding you, but now that you've reminded me of what a _miserable, pathetic, unworthy_ excuse for a -"

"Calm down, dear." Treasure suddenly appeared behind King and put a hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping King's rant. "Let's listen to what the nice lady knight wants."

"Yes dear," King stuttered softly.

"Okay, great." Shield Knight produced the tome they had been studying and held out the drawing of the amulet. "Do either of you, in your vast expanses of riches and treasure, have anything that looks like this? Or," she showed them Specter's locket next, "this? Or anything that appears to be old and archaic, maybe with some runes on it or something?"

"That's really specific," Treasure commented. "Why would you need anything like that? I know you're trying to help Specter, but why do you need my treasure?"

"Well, let's just say that we need to recreate an ancient and mysterious power, and we need clues on how to do it." At this, King suddenly straightened up.

"Oh ho! You couldn't be looking for such a power...to take over Pridemoor, _are you?!"_

"What? Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"I don't want you getting any ideas, because Pridemoor's throne belongs to _me!"_

"It certainly does not!"

"How dare you! Of course it - "

"Dear, we talked about this," Treasure said softly, and King eventually gave in and sighed.

"...Sorry," he mumbled.

"Anyways," Treasure continued, "I don't think I have anything like what you described. I keep very close tabs on my treasure, and I'd know if I had something like this. But even if I did, I wouldn't tell you, so who's to say, really?"

"And I certainly don't, either! I don't waste my time with little trinkety things. I have only _gold!"_ King added.

"Well that's no help!" Propeller suddenly exclaimed. "You mean to tell me that I so generously flew you both here only to say that you can do nothing?!"

"Well, yeah, that's exactly it," Treasure said, uncaring, and Propeller huffed.

"Well, what about you, Plague? And Mona? Surely you must be more competent than these two!"

"We just gave him a potion that should help, at least temporarily," Mona explained, motioning towards Specter, who, everyone suddenly noticed, was standing very, very unsteadily. "Er...Specter? Are you alright?" He didn't respond, trying to stay standing, but then he suddenly wobbled and collapsed.

"Donovan!" Propeller cried, rushing over. He dropped to the ground next to him and carefully lifted him into his lap, cradling him gently, like he was made of glass. "He's not breathing!" Everyone crowded in closer, a worried murmur sweeping through the small crowd. Propeller ripped his helmet off and flung it away, not even caring about anything else at that moment. "Donovan!" He lifted Specter's visor to find his eyes closed. "No!" He felt his throat close up and tears sting at his eyes, and he hugged Specter closer. He felt cold. So, so cold. "You _killed_ him!" Filled with sudden rage, Propeller glared at Mona, gritting his teeth, tears in his eyes, unable to think clearly. "You killed him! He's dead! He's _dead!"_ He broke down into tears at his own words, burying his face in one of Specter's cold, bony shoulders, overcome with grief. "Please...not yet, don't...don't leave me...Donovan..."

"...I guess the potion didn't work," Mona mumbled, shocked, turning to Plague. "Are you sure you mixed it for long enough?"

"I-I'm sure I did!"

"...Well, look's like we're too late," Treasure said awkwardly, while everyone else was too stunned to speak. "Bummer. Well, we'd best be on our way, then -"

All of a sudden, Specter gasped, making everyone jump. Propeller, almost too afraid to believe it, pulled away a bit to look at Specter's face. It was twisted in pain, and he took another sharp, painful sounding intake of air. Relief flooded Propeller's body, and he hugged Specter again, weeping.

"You're...you're alive...mon amour..." Specter started to tremble violently, and Propeller squeezed him. "It's alright, mon cher, it's alright...breathe...you're okay..." In truth, he wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort Specter or himself. They both needed it.

~

Specter gasped for air. His whole body ached with cold, and he felt like he was suffocating. His head was swimming and he couldn't focus on anything, couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He could feel a faint warmth, and curled towards it, shaking and letting out a soft, pathetic whimper. Slowly, his senses returned, and he could faintly see the green of Propeller's jacket, and he nestled closer. His breathing gradually evened out, and he stopped trembling, slowly coming back to the present.

"Donovan? Can you hear me?" Propeller's voice asked in a choked whimper, and Specter could only give a slight indication of a nod. He still felt out of breath and lightheaded, closing his eyes, trying to gather himself. A wet, shaky kiss was pressed to his forehead, and he sighed.

"It's over," He mumbled. Propeller blinked.

"W-what?"

"It's over." He took a slow, deep breath. "That was too close. Next time...next time it happens, I won't be able to come back." He pressed even closer, trying not to cry. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so scared.

"No...don't say that! We'll save you yet, there must be a way! I _promise_ you!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Specter mumbled sadly. 

"You can't give up now! There's still hope!" Specter only shook his head, drawing a shaky breath. Shield Knight stepped forward boldly.

"Propeller's right. As long as Specter's alive, there's hope. Come on, everyone! We don't have much time left. We have to find that cure!" She had a talent for lifting everyone's spirits, because a cheer of determination went up from the group. Specter sighed again, still too weak to move.

"Don't...waste your time on me. It's not worth it."

"Nonsense." Shield Knight flashed him her best grin. "You just sit tight and save your strength, and we'll have you back to life before you know it! Now let's go!" She ran off, and everyone followed at various speeds and levels of enthusiasm. Propeller managed a thin, watery smile once they had all left.

"You must admire their determination, mon cher." Specter sighed for the umpteenth time.

"I don't know how anyone can stand her. She's way too energetic."

"You say the same about me, and look at us." Specter grumbled in response, and Propeller gave a thin chuckle, most of his earlier tension gone. "Don't worry. Everything will end up okay. I know it will." Specter couldn't bring himself to respond. He had a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach about everything that he just couldn't ignore. He knew it was hopeless, he was a lost cause at this point, but just for a moment, he tried to believe that Propeller was right, and found that he couldn't. But he didn't have the strength to argue anymore.

"...Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R...ruh roh
> 
> Notes:  
> 1) yea I know that Specter's got those Crispy Hands in Shovel of Hope, which happened before this, but we like to ignore canon in this house  
> 2) we're also pretending that lil scene at the end of Shovel of Hope of Specter tossing bottles around with Mona didn't happen, so he doesn't know her  
> 3) How to write King knight: 1) too many adjectives 2) italicize every second word  
> 4) yes I know that Specter/Donovan's forehead isn't at all exposed when his visor is up but it's romantic so shut up


	6. In Which Shield Knight Almost Breaks a Door

Specter was getting weaker by the minute.

He tried to hide it, of course, but it was obvious. His arms by then were completely blackened and shriveled, nothing but dry, crispy skin and brittle bones, and his legs were in a similar state, although they were less gruesome solely because they were hidden beneath his armor. Most of the time, he seemed to be in a lightheaded daze, unable to keep himself upright for long and constantly needing to stop and collect himself before talking or moving or anything. Speaking became a chore for him, and his voice was much thinner, quieter and raspier than normal. It was discouraging and depressing, and everyone tripled their efforts, now getting desperate to find a cure.

This was all especially hard on Propeller. He spent a lot of time with Specter, making sure he was as comfortable as possible, helping to support him, and trying to ease both of their worry. He couldn't stand seeing the one he loved decaying right in front of him, but he tried to keep himself together, difficult as it was.

One day he was sitting alone, head in his hands, needing a break from it all. Just a quick break, because of course he loved Specter and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, but it was just too mentally draining to watch for too long. 

After a while, he heard footsteps approaching, but didn't move.

"Propeller Knight..." He heard Shovel Knight's voice speak. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a moment?"

"Go ahead," Propeller answered, emotionless. Shovel Knight sat down next to him, and for a moment, nothing was said.

"...You love him very much, don't you?" Shovel Knight asked gently, and Propeller sighed.

"More than anything." Shovel Knight patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"I understand your pain," he began softly, "of losing a loved one, of thinking there's no hope left for their survival." He paused. "But I want to tell you that you must never give up hope, no matter how dire things seem. Fate is a funny thing; never underestimate it's ability to change the course of a life."

Propeller scoffed. "I wish I could believe you, mon ami, but this is not the first time I've had a loved one dying before me. I know more than anyone that death is cold and merciless." He finally managed a dry chuckle. "So I apologize if I am unable to share your optimism. Now excuse me," and he stood as he spoke, not wanting to continue the discussion, "but I fear I've been gone for too long and should head back. It was nice talking with you." He walked away, not allowing Shovel Knight enough time to recover from his shock over such a statement and answer him.

~~~

"There's something I want to do," Specter said once when he and Propeller were alone, "before I die. Because, you...know I'm going to...right? We're too late." Propeller sighed and bowed his head.

"...Yes. I know."

"Good. I mean - it's not good, but it's good that you, uh, know the truth..." Specter cleared his throat. "Anyways. There's something I want to do with you before I die, so come with me." He held his hand out, and Propeller hated how he hesitated before taking it. It shouldn't matter how cold and withered his hands were, it was still the same Specter as the one he fell in love with.

He was led to the library, which was empty. All of their research and progress lied scattered across the table, in the form of open books and pages covered with notes and diagrams. Propeller gawked as Specter swept all of it to the floor without a second thought. 

"What are you doing?" Specter didn't answer, instead going to where the old record player still lay, discarded and forgotten, on the floor.

"Help me set this thing up again," he said, "and find that record we danced to all that time ago." Propeller couldn't argue, so he did exactly what Specter said. The turntable was in a dire state, but after setting it back on the table, dusting it off, and adjusting a few things, it looked alright. He still remembered which record it was that they had listened to, and it was found on the floor as well, buried within the pile of other records. The sound quality maybe wasn't what it used to be, but it still played, and Specter let out an almost inaudible breath of relief.

"Perfect," he said. Then he looked up at Propeller, suddenly a bit nervous, and held out his hand again. "Er...dance with me?" Propeller had to smile, a bittersweet, melancholic smile, and this time he didn't hesitate to take the offered hand.

"Of course."

And so they did. Propeller's helmet was discarded so they could be as close as possible, swaying gently to the music. Specter had to lean quite heavily against Propeller, almost too weak to stand anymore, but neither of them really minded. If anything, it was an excuse to be even closer.

"You're so warm," Specter murmured after a while, nuzzling the crook of Propeller's neck and sighing. "I love you so much." Propeller smiled, turning and pressing a kiss to Specter's temple and fighting back a shiver at how icy his breath was on his skin.

"I love you more." They were only allowed another moment before Specter let out a shuddering breath and slumped against Propeller's shoulder. "Donovan?" There was a terrifying moment as Specter's legs finally gave out, Propeller having to take a few steps backwards so they wouldn't fall, before he managed to gently lower them both to the floor. Specter was motionless, completely limp against him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah..." Specter replied in a thin, quiet voice. "Yeah, I'm...I'm fine. Sorry, just...got dizzy." Propeller sighed in relief, but it was short lived, because there was a nauseating worry in his stomach that made his heart sink.

"Mon amour, you're too unwell to be on your feet anymore." He felt Specter nod slightly. "Let me take you to my ship. You'll be more comfortable there." Another small nod. Propeller lifted him up carefully, like he was the most fragile thing on earth, and he felt Specter curl towards him. His body felt tiny and frail in his arms, and Propeller could just barely make out his slow, shallow breaths. His heart ached.

It really was over.

~~~

With Specter in what were probably his final moments, Propeller didn't want leave his side for anything, so after he carried Specter to the airship and got him tucked into bed, he didn't leave, sitting next to him instead. Specter could barely keep his eyes open, and his breathing was slow, weak and uneven. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark and quiet.

Propeller stroked his hair slowly, trying desperately not to cry. The others were still searching, desperate to find some sort of last-minute cure, but he knew better. They were too late. It was over.

"Mon amour...Donovan..." Propeller spoke in a soft, choked voice. "I'm...I'm so sorry. If only...I had been faster, then you wouldn't...wouldn't..." he sniffled, hurriedly wiping away a tear.

"It's okay," Specter said, voice reduced to barely a whisper. "There was nothing you could do." He closed his eyes for a moment. Propeller tried to swallow down the lump in his throat.

"Is there...is there anything I can do for you? B-before...you..." he sniffed again, trying desperately to keep himself together, for Specter's sake. There was a moment of silence, and for a moment Propeller thought he was already gone, but then Specter spoke, so softly that Propeller had to lean in to hear what he was saying.

"Can you...can you sing...for me?"

Propeller blinked, unsure of whether or not he heard him correctly. "S-sing?"

"Yeah. Remember that time...when we danced together, and you...you were singing?" A smile tugged at his lips despite the grim situation. "I've always...wanted to hear you again, I've just been...too scared to ask." He opened his eyes and looked up at Propeller, who almost completely broke down right there, but he held himself together by a thread.

"What...do you want me to sing?"

"Anything." Specter breathed. "Anything at all."

Propeller took a short moment to gather himself, then he started to sing, softly, still stroking Specter's hair. His voice was shaky and choked, but Specter still listened closely. He wasn't sure if the words were in French or if his brain was just too muddled to make sense of them. It was still lovely, even if Propeller was starting to cry, taking shaky, gulping breaths in between lines and struggling to even make a sound through the choke in his voice. Specter could feel himself fading, and he let his eyes slip shut, sighing. It felt like he was just tired, right on the brink of falling into a deep, cozy sleep, and he welcomed the feeling as it slowly took over his mind...

All of a sudden, the door was kicked open with such violent force that it almost flew right off its hinges. Propeller jumped and stopped singing, and Specter was so startled that he was jerked back into the world of the living for a few moments. Shield Knight skidded into the room, panting, followed by Shovel Knight, Red, Scarlet, Missy, Gall, Plague Knight and Mona.

"WE GOT IT!" She yelled, and in her fist she held up the locket, which was now glowing with a soft, red light. "IS HE STILL ALIVE?"

Propeller blinked. "B-barely -"

"Get him over here! We don't have any time to lose! Plague, get to work!"

"Hee hee! Let's hope this works!" He dropped to the ground and began drawing something on the floor in chalk that looked alarmingly like a pentagram. Propeller hurriedly, but gently, pulled the blankets back from Specter's body and scooped him up, lifting him carefully and carrying him over to where everyone stood. Specter's eyelids fluttered.

"Alicio?"

"Hang on, amour. Hang on just a little while longer," he urged in a whisper.

"Can he stand? Get him in the circle!" Shield Knight ordered, and Propeller did as he was told, setting Specter on his feet in the middle of Plague's drawing, and he wobbled, barely able to stand anymore, but Propeller supported him. Plague started to mumble something, and the pentagram began to glow, much to Propeller's alarm.

"Are you sure this is -"

"Stand back!" Shield Knight cut him off, and Propeller let go of Specter and took a step back, and Shield Knight held the locket out towards him. Then there was suddenly so much light that not much could be seen except for Shield Knight, bravely holding the locket as it seemed to spit fire. Specter's body was enveloped in a bright light that made everyone squint, and the room seemed to shake with the raw energy being created.

And then, quite suddenly, the light dissipated. The locket stopped glowing, as did the pentagram (which had actually vanished, upon closer inspection), and Specter was there, floating a little ways off the ground, head bowed. Everyone held their breaths as he was slowly lowered, and as soon as his feet hit the floor, his legs buckled, and Propeller rushed forward and caught him as he started to fall.

"Mon amour!" They fell to their knees, Propeller holding Specter's upper arms tightly. He still couldn't see his face. "Mon amour, are you alright? Did it work -" He cut himself off as he noticed something. Specter had reached out and grabbed him as well when they fell, and now Propeller stared at the hand and arm that gripped him tightly, unbelieving. His skin was no longer blackened and withered, but now was plump with flesh, and his skin was a rich, warm bronze. Eyes wide with disbelief, Propeller hurriedly pushed Specter back just enough so there was space between them, then he cupped his chin and lifted his head. "Donovan!" Specter suddenly drew in a sharp, ragged breath, and his eyes slowly fluttered open, hazy and unfocused. The whites of his eyes weren't black anymore, and his irises were a deep brown.

"Did...did it work?" he managed to say in a soft, hoarse voice, and Propeller couldn't answer for a moment. Then his face split into a grin, and he started laughing, pulling Specter in for a hug. He felt warm and solid and _alive,_ and Propeller wept tears of joy.

"It worked!" A cheer went up from everyone. Red laughed and twirled Scarlet around, Shield Knight gave Shovel Knight a (clunky) hug, Missy and Mona danced for joy. Propeller couldn't separate himself from Specter for a long moment, still holding him tightly and weeping onto his shoulder, and then he sat back just enough to pepper feverish kisses all over his face. He pulled away laughing, meeting Specter's eyes again. Specter was smiling too, but there was an exhaustion in it.

"Ha ha...ha..." he laughed weakly, before suddenly going limp. Propeller gasped.

"Donovan?!" The celebrations died down, as for a moment, there was panic. "He collapsed!"

"Shit!" Shield Knight swore, and Shovel Knight gasped. There was a brief, horrifying silence, then Propeller sighed in relief.

"He's still breathing. He's still alive. He's alive!" Relief flooded through the room.

"Oh, thank goodness! I thought it was all for nothing," Missy sighed.

"Let him rest. Being brought to life is exhausting, and it'll take him a while to recover completely," Mona explained, and Propeller nodded. Very, very carefully, he scooped him into his arms and stood, which took a bit more effort than usual, because Specter somehow felt heavier than he used to. Propeller smiled sweetly and set him down on the bed, tucking the blanket around him.

"How long will he be asleep, do you suppose?" He asked, brushing Specter's bangs out of his face.

"Hard to say. Could be a few hours, could be even a few days. Someone should keep an eye on him, to make sure he doesn't stop breathing." Mona looked concerned for a moment. "We cut it really close. There's no saying how weak he'll be, or how hard his recovery. Hell, he might not even wake up. We're not in the clear just yet."

"I'll stay with him, no matter how long it takes!" Propeller offered immediately, not even wanting to entertain the thought that Specter still might not make it.

"Good. Let's leave him to rest, then. He needs it." She put a hand on Plague's shoulder and ushered him out first, and everyone else followed one by one. "If you need anything, of if he starts waking up or anything, come get me," she said over her shoulder, and Propeller nodded.

"But..." Missy started to complain, looking like she really wanted to go see if Specter was okay for herself, but Mona gently urged her to leave, and eventually everyone was gone, the room once again becoming dark and quiet. Propeller just stood and stared at where Specter lay for a moment, still trying to process the situation, then he smiled. Carefully, so as to disturb Specter as little as possible, he laid next to him, touching his face gently and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. His skin was starting to warm, and when Propeller gently touched his neck, he could feel a pulse - weak, but there.

"Almost there," he breathed, nuzzling in close to his face, knowing that Specter couldn't hear him but still hoping some part of him would understand. "You're almost there, amour. Don't give up now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would have been out a lot sooner, but I ended up adding a few more scenes because I really wanted to milk that angst for all it was worth. Also, I really wish I could elaborate more on what Propeller said to sk at the start of the chapter, because I do have a lot of ideas regarding his past. Maybe I'll write something on it someday, who knows.


	7. In Which Being Alive is Hard

Specter stayed asleep for days. Propeller rarely left him during that time, watching dutifully over him just as he said he would. Specter didn't move at all, the only indication that he was alive at all being his breathing. Every so often, however, it would slow to a stop, and he'd be silent for a few seconds before suddenly gasping, almost like he had forgotten to keep breathing for a moment. It never failed to terrify Propeller, who didn't get much sleep, too scared that Specter would die while he was out and he wouldn't even know. It probably wasn't healthy to just be sitting there, hardly sleeping, hardly eating, but he seemed to forget that he needed those things. To him, Specter was way more important.

While he waited, Shield Knight explained to him how they managed to reverse death - and it was pretty complicated. The amulet was at the root of everything - the Enchantress, Specter's reanimation, and the enchanting of the locket. They had discovered that its power came from an ancient tribe of magic-wielders who had once inhabited the tower, and that the only way of summing their power - the power to restore life - was through the pentagram. But the power had to be bound to something, it needed a channel from where the power could be projected. The tribe had used the amulet to house the power long ago - and, as Shield Knight and company discovered, Specter's locket worked pretty well for that exact purpose. Using the pentagram during the actual resurrection was more of a precaution than anything, but it seemed to have done something, which was good. It wasn't identical to what the Enchantress had done with the locket, but it worked, and that was all that mattered.

"But still, it was a bit of a shot in the dark," Shield Knight concluded. "We just needed to try it. Anything was better than nothing. I just hope it didn't, you know, mess up his insides or anything. After all, he only just _looks_ fine. He might still be all rotted up inside."

Propeller _really_ didn't want to think about that. So he busied himself with watching and waiting for Specter to wake up. His breathing had evened out, and he was starting to move and twitch a little in his sleep, as if he was dreaming. Propeller took it as a good sign.

~~~

...

~~~

_Donovan had never felt such pain in his life. Each labored breath was agony, sending sharp jolts of pain through his ribs and chest, and it felt like his lungs were barely filling halfway with air. He could taste blood at the back of his throat and his legs felt completely shattered. He tried to push himself up, but the attempt only sent him crashing back to the unforgiving ground, coughing up blood that quickly saturated his mask. There was wetness and a sharp, stinging pain across half of his face, and as he forced his eyes open, he found that he could only see out of one, the other socket feeling heavy and clogged with blood._

_He wanted to call out to Luan, but then realized his mistake. Luan was dead; surely he couldn't have survived the fall. Donovan was lucky he wasn't killed instantly upon impact, and surely fate wasn't so kind (or, perhaps, cruel) to both of them. Tears burned at the corner of his eyes as he thought back to only a few short moments ago, when Luan was alive and well and shouting at him desperately, and God, what an idiot he was. If only he had listened, if only he hadn't been such a horrible, selfish, stupid excuse for life, if only he had thought more about his friend and less about some trinket, then Luan would still be alive, and they'd be somewhere else, and there would be no pain, no blood, no death..._

_"Luan...I'm..." the words were barely murmured, and more blood bubbled past his lips. He had just killed his best friend and couldn't even muster up an_ apology?

_Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light and a deafening rumble. This time, Donovan was successful in pushing himself up, through the effort made his body scream in protest and his arms shake. Though his vision was blurred, double vision making him nauseous, he was able to make out an ominous and powerful figure floating in front of him._

_"H-halt!" He cried, trying to sound threatening, but the effort only made him cough. "Who goes there?"_

_"You have sealed your fate," the woman said, disregarding his question. "Your friend has fallen, and your own life is forfeit! Hmmm...unless..."_

_"Unless?" Donovan wheezed. The pain was becoming unbearable._

_"Unless you do as I command. I shall grant you a reprieve from certain death...and give you great power." Donovan had to admit, a reprieve from the pain he felt right then would be nice. His vision was starting to cloud over with dense black spots, and he bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut, not having the strength to look up at the woman anymore._

_"I gather I don't have a choice, then?" He had to stop and cough, spitting out the blood that pooled in his mouth. "Fine, I'm listening."_

_The woman laughed haughtily. "You will gather me a grand army! The knights of this land will bow before me. You will bring them here, and I will have a fearsome order."_

_Dear God, it hurt. He wanted the pain to end, he wanted to accept this woman's offer, to let her ease his pain as she said she would and give him a second chance. Words of acceptance rose at the back of his throat like bile, threatening to spill past his lips, but he fought them back, suddenly thinking differently._

_"No."_

_The room grew cold, and the world fell deafeningly silent. It felt as if time had come to a stop._

_"No?" She seethed, and Donovan immediately knew his life was over. If the blood loss didn't kill him, then she definitely would. However, he felt not an ounce of fear at knowing he was seconds from death. It was as if he had bled out his cowardice and was left only with the realization that he had nothing to lose. Feeling suddenly stronger, he lifted his head to glare right at her with his good eye, and he grinned, wishing she could see his bloodstained teeth._

"I'd rather die," _he hissed, and he didn't miss the look of glorious fury on her face before everything went black._

~~~  
...

~~~

When Specter woke up next, it felt like he was coming out of the deepest sleep of his life. His whole body felt stiff and heavy, and he couldn't move, even if he wanted to. Even his eyelids felt heavy as he forced his eyes open, blinking slowly. Everything felt...different, somehow.

He wasn't even allowed a minute to himself before someone was suddenly upon him, kissing every inch of his face, and a woman's voice shouted "hey, give him some space!" Specter's vision took a while to clear, but he was able to make out Propeller, hovering above him and grinning ear to ear.

"Mon amour, you're awake! How do you feel? You're alive now! You're alive! Does it feel different? Are you in any pain?"

"Propeller!" The same voice as earlier snapped. "Give him a minute!" Propeller grinned sheepishly.

"Ah, sorry, sorry, I am just too excited. You're alive!" Specter blinked, slowly registering everything being said, and he managed a little smile.

"So, it...worked, huh?" His throat felt like sandpaper and he could barely speak, giving a few dry, wheezing coughs afterwards. Propeller nodded vigorously, looking like he could almost burst into tears at any given moment.

"Here, sit him up, I'll get him some water. He's so dehydrated it isn't even funny." Propeller did as he was told, helping Specter sit against the headboards, and he found that he didn't even have the strength to help with the movement. He glanced over Propeller's shoulder and identified the woman who had been speaking as Shield Knight, who was now approaching with a cup of water. Propeller took it from her and held the cup up to Specter's parched lips, and the first sip felt like heaven. Specter drained the cup in a matter of seconds, sighing and licking his lips afterwards. He had forgotten what it felt like to be thirsty.

"Thank you," he said, voice a little bit stronger. Shield Knight smiled sweetly.

"I bet you're hungry too, right?" She asked, and Specter actually had to stop and think about it. He felt like _something,_ but couldn't label it.

"Uh...maybe? It's...been a while," he offered with a small, sheepish smile.

"You're probably hungry," Shield Knight said, amused. "You've got good timing, we just had lunch. I'll get you something." She turned and left, leaving the two lovers alone. Propeller smiled and gently took Specter's hand.

"Mon amour..." he said softly, voice filled with emotion. "You're here...we did it." Specter returned the smile.

"We did."

"How do you feel?"

"...Heavy. I don't think I can move," Specter said with a small chuckle. "Is this...what it feels like to be alive?" The reality of the situation was finally starting to hit him. "Oh my God, I'm alive. I'm...I'm alive!" He laughed, and suddenly there were tears filling his eyes. He blinked, and they spilled down his cheeks, and he couldn't put into words how joyous it was to actually be able to shed tears. "Ah...I'm crying..." Propeller laughed and just hugged him tightly, tears of his own running down his face. They giggled stupidly, and Propeller gave him more kisses before pressing their foreheads together, still laughing. He squeezed Specter's hand; his skin was horribly dry, but that was nothing compared to how withered they had been.

"It's the first day of the rest of your life," Propeller said, voice a bit choked.

"Holy shit," Specter breathed, voice still holding laughter. "I...I never thought it'd happen..." More tears spilled from his eyes, and he buried his face in Propeller's shoulder, who returned the half-embrace. "And you'll...you'll be there for it...right with me...right?"

Propeller smiled reassuringly. "Every step of the way."

~~~

Recovering from an illness or a physical injury is hard, but recovering from being dead is in a league of its own. Specter felt like he was a stranger in his own body, everything feeling unnatural and foreign. He was hyper aware of every little sensation: the beating of his heart, the blood that now pumped through his veins, even the subtle twitches and growls of his organs as they started working again. It was extremely uncomfortable, to say the least. He even had to almost re-learn how to walk, since his body was weak, scrawny, and felt much heavier than normal. This also meant that his balance and coordination were both very, very off, which meant there was a lot of stumbling and toe-stubbing and bumping into tables and door frames, and a lot of curses. A lot of angry, yelled curses, and a lot of smacks on the shoulder from Shield Knight telling him to "watch your _damn_ language!" Not to mention the wonderful side-effects of being so out of balance in every way possible, like mood swings, irritability, being overly emotional, and a general feeling of fatigue that he couldn't shake; then again, it was hard to tell if that wasn't just Specter being Specter. The only truly worrying thing about his physical condition was a few black spots on the whites of one of his eyes that didn't clear up, but he assured everyone that he could see just fine, so it was mostly ignored, alarming as it looked. The biggest thing that bothered him was the fact that now he actually felt the need to eat, drink and sleep, which was just a huge inconvenience after so long of not having to deal with any of it. 

It was frustrating, but at least he wasn't alone. Shield Knight insisted that Specter stay with her and Shovel Knight for a few days, just to make sure all was well, and Propeller, of course, stayed as well. Plague and Mona had left, claiming that they needed to get back to the Explodatorium to continue their scheming, but Missy, Gall, Red and Scarlet stuck around. Everyone's company made the whole ordeal of learning how to be human much more bearable. Specter spent quite a bit of time with Shovel Knight, helping out in the field so he could build up his strength again, and at first it was excruciating, because not only did any small amount of physical activity exhaust him, but he had forgotten how awful it felt to have sweat dripping down his face and neck. Fortunately, Specter was a quick learner, and the work became easier as his body remembered how it was supposed to function. It was still very demanding, however, and he'd always be completely exhausted by the end of the day. Instead of his usual grace of getting comfortable under the sheets, he'd instead just throw himself onto the bed like a sack of raw potatoes. And then Propeller would chuckle, and make some sort of comment like "it's not that bad, is it?", and then he'd climb into bed next to Specter and hold him close, and that's always when Specter decided no, it's not that bad. Finally getting to relax in Propeller's arms, feeling his lips pressing against his skin, gently whispering to him, lulling him into sweet, sweet sleep: that's what made everything worth it. It felt like heaven, like the part of Specter that always used to feel so cold and empty was finally being filled. He'd fall asleep with a dumb smile on his face, and every morning it would return immediately upon waking.

Pretty soon, Specter almost had his old strength and stamina back, and with it came the realization that being alive was...well, amazing. He seemed to see and feel just a bit differently; the world around him felt brighter, crisper, newer. He was more aware of the sounds and sensations that surrounded him, from the warmth of the sun to the grass beneath his feet and everything in between. He found himself feeling happy most of the time, which was extremely unusual for someone usually so broody and melancholy. It was a welcome change, both for him and those who had to put up with him.

~~~

Propeller couldn't help the dopey smile he got as he watched Specter fight back a yawn for possibly the fifth time that evening.

"Someone's sleepy," he teased, resting his chin on his palm. Specter glared.

"No I'm not."

"You are. You've been yawning all evening."

"No I haven't." Propeller chuckled.

"You can't lie to me. You're tired, I can hear it in your voice."

"...Whatever." Propeller giggled and scooted closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he didn't miss the tiny smile that appeared on Specter's face. (Neither cared much about having their helmets on anymore; after all, everyone had seen their faces, and there were no battles being had, so what was the point?) "Although, it...does feel nice to be tired, in a way," Specter mused. "It's something I haven't felt in so long. It's like...like a reminder that I'm human."

"But you're not tired _right now,_ of course, right?" Propeller said playfully, and Specter's smile widened a bit.

"Of course not." That only earned him another kiss, this time on his lips.

"Ugh, get a room!" Shield Knight finally shouted from where she was, stretched out on the couch. That made Missy giggle, who was seated on the floor next to the couch. Propeller stuck his tongue out at them.

"You know, we have been thinking of leaving soon, so it looks like we will be," he said, still lighthearted.

"Aw come on, I didn't mean it! You don't have to leave so soon. Are you sure Specter's well enough?" Specter nodded.

"I'm pretty sure. I've been feeling...really great lately, and besides, it's about time we got out of your hair. The world's out there waiting for us." Shield Knight smiled understandingly.

"I gotcha. You've got cabin fever. Just remember not to push yourself too much. The last thing I need is you running back here crying because you weren't ready to leave yet."

"Don't worry, I won't."

"I guess we had better get going as well," Missy said sadly.

"Where will you go?"

"Back underground, I suppose." It was Red who answered Specter's question, leaning in the doorframe. "It's not like we have much of a choice. There's not much room in the world for the undead. You were lucky to escape such a fate, Specter!" That last comment made Specter pause; how come no one thought to try and help the others regain their humanity as well? The look on his face must have betrayed his thoughts, because Red added, "not to worry. There is nothing that can be done about it."

"There must be," Specter frowned. "Isn't there something we can at least do to repay you? For everything you've done?"

"It's most kind of you to consider us, but please, do not worry. we're used to living in the tower, and if we must spend eternity there, then so be it -"

"I've got it!" Propeller suddenly declared. "You should all come with us!"

"I...beg your pardon?"

"You can join my crew! We could always use more hands on deck, and I will give you a good home, food if you need it, and everyday high-flying adventures! Who could resist such an offer?"

"That does sound nice," Missy commented.

"Indeed it does. Are you sure we wouldn't be...intruding?" Red asked in disbelief.

"Nonsense! Please, ask the others as well. We have more than enough room for all of you!"

"I certainly will."

~~~

 

When the morning of departure rolled around, both Specter and Propeller were itching to take off, but they couldn't leave without first saying goodbye.

The sun was warm and the day was clear as they all stood outside of the cottage. Specter cleared his throat, knowing that he was probably supposed to do most of the talking.

"Shield Knight...Shovel Knight..." he began, not too sure what to say. "I...I really can't thank you enough. And I'm sorry for all the trouble caused, but I...owe you both my life. I...thank you." Shield Knight smiled, and Specter was about to try and come up with more sentimental stuff to say when he was suddenly pulled in for a tight hug. He sputtered and tensed, taken by surprise, and it took him a moment to realize that he should return the embrace.

"Before you go, I have something for you." Shield Knight released him, reaching into a hidden pocket, and Specter's breath hitched as he she pulled out his precious locket. He had honestly been so caught up in everything going on that he had completely forgotten about it. "Told you I'd give it back when I was done with it, right? And I think it's served its purpose quite well."

"I..." Specter slowly held out a hand, and Shield Knight placed it in his palm. "Thank you..."

"Take care," Shield Knight said, still wearing a smile, and if Specter didn't know better he'd say she was on the verge of tears. "Look after each other. Be safe. And for God's sake, when a knight warns you about a cursed amulet, you listen, okay?" That finally made Specter chuckle.

"I will." Their conversation was interrupted by Shovel Knight sniffling loudly.

"I'll miss you two!" he cried. "Please, be careful! Come find us if you need anything! Don't do anything too dangerous!"

"Geez, you're acting like they're our kids or something. They know how to look after themselves...right?" Shield Knight glared playfully at Specter as she spoke, and he was about to counter with something snarky, but was interrupted when he noticed the undeads rushing over.

"Wait for us!" Missy shouted.

"Have enough room on board for a few extra hands?" Red asked once they had all caught up.

"Oh, you're all coming along! Marvelous! Fantastic! Let's not waste time then, the sky awaits!"

And so, the group of sky pirates turned their back on the cottage and walked towards the airship. Specter stared up at the vessel waiting patiently for them, feeling excitement flutter in his stomach.

"Where to next, captain?" he asked, turning to look at Propeller, who clapped a hand around his back and gestured grandly with the other.

"To wherever the skies take us, mon cher!" Normally, such a vague and aloof answer would have worried Specter, and he would have urged to Propeller to make some sort of plan so they didn't just end up wasting time, but right then, he didn't really care.

Plans would come later. After all, they had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About damn time, huh? Let Specter Knight be happy 2k19
> 
> Also y'all don't know how temped I was to add an Optional Horny Chapter right after this one, in which Specter relearns how to use very, ahem, specific parts of his body, but then I decided, you know what, this is a (more or less) family friendly story and by God we're gonna keep it that way


	8. Epilogue: In Which Life is Good Again

Years passed.

Specter woke up one morning as he always did: warm and comfortable. He stretched his arms out under the blankets, confirming that that he was alone in bed, which wasn't at all unusual, because Propeller always got up before he did. He was the type who would bound out of bed at the crack of dawn, ready for adventure, and Specter would usually drag himself after him a good few hours later.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He got the feeling that it was early, because the room seemed darker than it normally did when he awoke, and the air was slightly cool. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, he decided that it was a little too cold for his liking, so he took the blanket with him as he stood, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape. He noticed that the door leading to the outside balcony was ajar, which was probably why the room was so cold. He padded over and pulled it open, and was greeted by a fresh gust of wind. It was indeed early; the first streaks of daylight were just starting to be visible over the horizon. Propeller was there, leaning against the guardrail and taking in the scenery, and Specter approached and hugged him from behind, nuzzling sleepily into his shoulder. 

"Bon matin, sleepyhead. You're up early," Propeller murmured, and Specter could hear the smile in his voice. Specter let him turn and slip an arm around his waist, holding him tightly against his side and pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Morning," Specter mumbled, unable to keep from smiling. He looked out at the scenery in front of them. Doing so used to give him vertigo, but he had gotten used to it over the years, and now he could admire the rolling landscape without dizziness or fear of falling. He caught glimpses of farmland through the clouds below them, a few houses and clumps of trees dotting the land. The wind was crisp and inviting on his face and in his hair, but it was also cold, and he drew the blanket tighter around himself and pressed closer to Propeller. They spent a few moments in peaceful silence, watching the sun slowly crawl higher, until warm beams of light were finally beginning to illuminate the world. Only then did Propeller break the silence.

"Donovan?"

"Hmm?"

"May I...ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Perhaps I'm moving a little too quickly, but...have you ever thought about getting married?"

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that's what I call a happy ending :)
> 
> I've tossed around ideas of potentially continuing this; thought about doing a prequel that goes into more depth about Prop and Spec's pasts, or a (much more lighthearted) continuation of their adventures as sky pirate husbands. Who knows what the future holds?
> 
> Let me know what you think! Each comment gives me +500 writing prowess


End file.
